


First Impression

by sociallychallengednerd



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Agent Carolina & Agent Washington are Siblings, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, carwash siblings, maine has a speech impediment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociallychallengednerd/pseuds/sociallychallengednerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Washington has been newly assigned to Project Freelancer and everything seems to be going to hell for him at once. His sister won't talk to him, he can already tell York and North are going to be trouble, and now his roommate might want to kill him. Great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impression

**Author's Note:**

> This plays off my head cannon of Maine having a speech impediment as a child that never got treated properly
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Developmental_verbal_dyspraxia
> 
> My explanation for Carolina's attitude is that with Wash showing up she sees it as just another that to stand between her father finally acknowledging her. She's just bitter but she gets over it.

He was Agent Washington now. David let that sink in fists clenched at his side. He wasn’t supposed to be Washington. He’d arrived here under the impression he’d be assigned as Agent South Carolina. His sister was North after all, and that was what father had told him he would be. David had been excited too, maybe not about working under their father, but he’d have Carolina again. He hadn’t heard from her in years. With their father out of the picture Carolina had practically raised him. They’d been so close until their military service had led them to falling out of contact. Wash didn’t understand. Had he done something wrong? Was Carolina mad he hadn’t made enough effort to keep in touch? David couldn’t help but think of the name Washington as a form of punishment. Why else would his sister request his codename reassignment? She had hardly looked at him when he’d meet the other Freelancers. Wash didn’t know what to think, but right now he had a more immediate problem than deciphering his big sister’s emotional state. 

Washington made his way to his new quarters with growing trepidation. It was starting to get late and Wash, who had already been shown around courtesy of Agents North and York, could no longer avoid his own quarters. He had met all of the other Freelancers save his new partner. Wash had heard stories from the others. At first he had thought they were just bullshitting him. After all this Agent Maine couldn’t be that bad, but they all seemed to agree unanimously that Maine was some terrifying murderous creature. Wash had looked to Carolina for some kind of help, but she had only stood there as York had told him that Maine had thrown his last partner out of the airlock because he’d tried to pat him on the shoulder. Washington now made it his goal to at least survive his first day on the Mother of Invention. 

Wash carefully opened the door peering in before he cautiously opened it all the way. There was no one there. The harsh florescent lights were off, replaced by the soft warm light of a lamp beside one of the beds lighting the room in their place. Wash fully stepped into the room dropping his bag on the bed on the barren half of the room, not that the other size had very much in comparison. The only difference was a bedside lamp, a pair of discarded sweats in the corner, and a few trophies here and there. What looked like a smashed Insurrectionists helmet sat to the side of the dresser. Wash stood there taking it all in before the sound of running water reached him from the small, adjacent bathroom, but that wasn’t all. As Washington went quiet he could hear the sound of something other than the water of the shower. Someone was…. singing? It was a deep, gravely voice singing quietly but with a slowly rising volume and extraordinarily off-key. Wash couldn’t really make out any other words, and the ones he could sounded slurred, almost like they owner was fumbling through words of a language they didn’t know. He sat on the edge of the bed and just allowed himself to listen. It was nice. This was Maine then? Wash wondered how people could be scared of this man singing off-key to himself in the shower as he stumbled over the deformed words of some strange song. 

The new Freelancer had been so wrapped up in his thoughts as he listened to the strangely enchanting song he hadn’t even noticed the sound of the shower turning off. He froze at the sound of the bathroom door opening his head whipping up to stare at the man equally frozen in the bathroom door. Agent Maine was a monster of a man. He looked like he could be pushing seven feet and was twice the width of Wash. Every inch of him was the pure toned, muscle of a soldier. Maine’s body laid bare, except for the towel around his waist. He was a patchwork of scars. His clean shaven head, the harsh, crooked angle of his nose, and the point of his jaw served to make him look that much more severe. Wash now understood the other’s fears, or he would have if the man hadn’t been struggling to keep up his weak glare up while he went red around the ears. 

“Uh,” Wash quickly got to his feet after realizing he’d just been staring at his new, half naked, roommate who apparently liked to throw his partners out of airlocks. “Sorry. I’m Agent Washington, your new roommate, but I’m sure you figured that out by now.” Wash began to stretch out an hand but then seemed to think better of it, letting it fall back to his side. 

Maine gave a grunt looking at him warily, the pink still painting the tips of his ears. 

“I liked your song by the way.” Wash added, hoping to lessen the tension, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Maine quickly grew hostile stiffening, his eyes narrowing and down right growling at Wash ready for a fight. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to listen in.” Wash quickly held up his hands in surrender. 

“Don’t mock me.” The words were hidden in a growl and it took a moment for Wash to realize what he’d said. 

“What? No, I’m not mocking you. I liked it.” It was true. Wash had liked it. Sure it definitely wasn’t the best singing, but the deep, rumbling baritone of his voice was nice to listen to.

Maine narrowed his eyes huffed a growl and turned away from him. Wash didn’t think he believed him, but he didn’t seemed to be planning on killing him. That was nice. He quickly stood turning back to his bag to get started unpacking. Wash could hear Maine behind him opening and closing drawers with more force than needed. He tried to ignore it as he put his things away, desperately avoiding looking at Maine. At least he was until the light went out and plunged the room into darkness. 

“Uh, do you think you could turn that back on?” Wash asked carefully.

A growl. 

“At least so I can see to get back into bed.”

Nothing. 

Alright then. Wash stuck his arms out in front of him trying to feel a way back to his bed. He’d gotten a pretty good look at the room. He could do this. He was a Freelancer after all. The elite. With that thought Washington’s foot caught and he fell with a crash and groan. The light flicked back on and Wash pulled himself up to look at an annoyed Maine sitting up in bed scowling at him. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Wash was quick to pull himself to his feet and right the chair he’d tripped over. He hurried to his bed before Maine could turn the lights out on him again, but Maine waited until he was in bed before he turned out the light again with an annoyed grunt. 

Wash was starting to think Maine wasn’t so bad after all. 

 

 

When he woke up the next morning Maine was gone, his bed perfectly made as if he had never been there. Washington wasted no time in making his way down to breakfast. He may have been a rookie to project freelancer but he knew how things worked. It was first come first served. If you didn’t come you weren’t served. 

York grinned when he saw him and waved him over. Wash’s eyes went to Carolina who was sitting next to the smiling man, resolutely staring down at her tray. He didn’t see much choice in the matter. It wasn’t as if he could very well ignore York’s without raising questions. With a sigh and a forced cheery grin he took his seat across from the pair. Carolina stood from the table with a jolt, grabbing her tray and stalking off with angry jerky movements. Washington could only watch her go with a sinking heart. He couldn’t understand what he had done to make her so mad. 

“Uh, don’t worry about Carolina,” York turned back to him with an awkward smile. “She’s just been a bit worked up lately. I’m sure she’ll come around to you soon.” 

Wash forced a smile. “Thanks York.” He didn’t get it though. That wasn’t it at all. Washington stared at his food picking at it half heartedly.

“So,” York drew out the word as Wash looked up to the older man across from. “It’s good to see you survived through the night.” He gave him a crooked smile.

North pat a hand on York’s shoulder as he took a seat. “Now York, leave the poor kid alone.” North turned to Wash with a friendly smile. “Considering you’re not in the infirmary I’m guessing things went well meeting Maine?” 

“Very funny.” Wash huffed glad to have something to distract himself. “I’m not falling for that again.” 

“Falling for what?” York asked sharing a glance with North.  
“All that stuff about Maine throwing his partner out of an air lock. He doesn’t seem too bad.” Wash spoke around a bite of apple. 

“Wash,” North spoke softly like he was talking to a small child. “We weren’t lying about that.”

“Yeah right,” He snorted gesturing between them with his apple in hand. “I mean just last night he was-”

Wash cut off as the man in question took a seat next to him. Maine gave a grunt that he assumed was meant to be a hello. Wash had begun to realize that Maine was a man of few words. York and North stared with open shock from Maine to Wash, who smirked. This would be the perfect chance to call their bluff. He didn’t buy anything that North and York had said last night, not after actually meeting Agent Maine. Sure the guy was beyond huge and quiet, but Wash couldn’t put together the man who sings in the shower to the man who threw his partner out of an airlock. 

 

“Morning!” Wash grinned brightly at the man. 

Maine turned to look down at him with a raised eyebrow. He gave a growl before returning to his tray. Wash glanced at his tray and gave a disappointed groan. 

“Aw, I didn’t realize they had pudding today.” Washington frowned down at his own, sadly pudding-less, tray. 

York chuckled. He and North seemed to relax but they both kept casting look toward Maine. “Better luck next time kid.”

Wash’s whine of complaint was cut off by the pudding cup silently slid in front of him. Wash looked up at Maine with a grin. The agent wasn’t even looking at him though, just staring down at his own tray spooning the last of his food into in mouth with a kind of mechanical efficiency. 

“Did you just give him your pudding cup? The last pudding cup?” Wash looked over to a stricken looking York and an equally stricken North. 

Maine didn’t look up, just a grunt.

“But you don’t share food. You almost broke my hand for taking your apple.”

“That was you.” Maine still didn’t look up. North put a hand over his mouth to cover a laugh. Wash didn’t bother to hide his snort of amusement.

“Well, thanks man for the pudding!” Wash grinned deciding now was the perfect time to put the final nail in the coffin and call their bluff. 

Wash reached out to slap the man on the back at the exact same moment Maine stood. Everything seemed to freeze as his hand made impact against Agent Maine’s ass. He stared at his hand in utter horror. In a numb kind of shock Wash’s eyes slowly left his hand trailing up the tall expanse of Maine’s body. Maine stared down at him, an unfamiliar expression on his face. He raised one thick eyebrow and Wash quickly pulled back like he’d been burned. His face felt like he was cooking from the inside. Wash’s mouth fell open but nothing came out. The tips of Maine’s ears were red as he turned and strode, quick and purposeful, out of the room. They all sat there in a state of stunned silence for a long moment. 

“Was that what I think it was?”

“I think so.” York responded. They hadn’t looked away from the door where Maine had exited. 

Wash snapped out of his stupor. “Wait, what was that? What do you- what?” Wash’s voice broke off as he tried to come to terms with what just happened. He’d smack his murderous, scary roommate’s ass. God save him.

South walked up behind North and York her eye moving from Wash to the door. “Did that really just happen?”

“Yup.”

“Well shit, Connie is going to be pissed she missed this.” With that South wondered off with a low whistle

“Will someone explain to me what the fuck is going on!” Washington gripped the edge of the table like that would somehow keep him from falling apart. 

“It looks like the big guy has a crush on you rookie.” York finally turned to him.

“No, oh no.” Wash waved his hands in front of him shaking his head. “Maine doesn’t like me. How would you even know?”

“Well,” North exchanged a look with York as they stood. “You’re not dead.”

Wash watched them go a sinking feeling in his gut. He let out a dramatic groan as his head fell forward against the table. This was worse than high school. At least didn’t have braces and glasses this time around. 

Wash very carefully avoided Maine the rest of the day. Some part of him was sure that if Maine saw him he’d kill him on sight. Connie had confirmed that Maine had indeed thrown his last partner out of the airlock and that York and North had not in fact just been fucking with him, as soon as she’d finally stopped laughing. Logically Wash knew that if he wasn’t dead by now Maine probably didn’t have any intention of killing him. He didn’t seem the type to draw it out. That didn’t change the fact that Wash didn’t think he could stomach seeing Maine right now. Wash wasn’t sure how he felt about what North and York had told him. What was Wash even supposed to think of that? Why would he like him? They’d hardly spoken, and the only time they had Wash made a fool of himself. He was beginning to wonder what what else could go wrong at this point. Carolina still wouldn’t talk to him, and she kept looking at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, and now his monstrous, monosyllabic partner liked him? Could it get worse? 

“Wash!” The freelancer snapped out of his thoughts to look up at South across observation room. “Stop daydreaming about your boyfriend and get over here. We’re training next, so get ready to have your ass kicked.” Wash sighed pushing off the wall. Apparently it could. 

 

 

Wash ate dinner in a rush, quick to return to his room before Maine. He’d thought about waiting until Maine was, hopefully, asleep, before slipping in, but Wash didn’t want a repeat of last night. He figured it was best to show up earlier and fake sleep when Maine came back. Easier said than done. It seemed Maine had a similar idea. He didn’t come back to the room until later that night. Washington didn’t dare move as he heard the door open and close again. He laid there listening to the rustle of clothes and the open and shut of draws. Maine never said a word just turned off the lights and climbed into bed. They both lay there in the tense silence of the pitch black. It’s Maine who breaks the silence.

“Night.” 

But that word meant so much more than goodnight. It mean I know you’re not asleep, I know you’re faking, I know you’re avoiding me. Wash stared at the ceiling. He was an asshole.

 

 

David pushed off and turned the corner. Dad was in his office, like always, so as long as he was quiet David could get away with riding his skateboard in the house. His sister was too busy with homework to take him to the park, but David was set on practicing today. Another boy in his third grade class had shown him a cool trick and David was determined to get it right. He frowned, wrinkling his nose as he shifted his weight on the board and jumped. David knew he’d messed up as soon as it happened. His board went flying out from under him sending David stumbling into the table slamming his arm against the corner. With a cry of pain he fell to the floor, taking a vase and picture frame with him. David cradled his arm to his chest staring down in frozen horror at the broken picture of his mother lying on the ground the broken glass distorting the picture. 

Then his dad was there seeming to grow with rage as he loomed over him shouting. The words were indistinguishable, but the intent was clear. David scrambled back and away, hot tears on his face as his dad shouted moving closer every time he moved away. He watched his dad’s fist clench at his side as he raised his hand. David pulled back, wide, scared eyes looking around frantically. Where was she? Where was his sister? Wasn’t she going to stop him? David looked back to his dad’s raised hand his eyes falling on his sister standing in the corner, but it wasn’t his sister. No, this was Agent Carolina, standing against the wall in full armor, arms crossed over her chest. David could see his reflection in the impassive stare of her visor. 

“Carolina! Carolina please! Please don’t let him hit me! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

David looked from Carolina to his dad with wide, teary eyes flinching back as his father swung at him.

 

Wash woke with a gasp scrambling for air. He sat up with a jolt staring into the dark as he slowly remembered where he was. He was not David. He was Agent Washington. He had nothing to be scared of. He laid back down letting out a shaky breath. It had been a while since he’d relieved that particular memory. Of course it had never ended like that. His dad had never actually hit him. Carolina had stepped in. His sister always stepped in for him. She was the one who took care of him. Wash needed to talk to her. 

The rustle of the sheet from across the room reminded him of Maine. Shit. He’d probably woken him up. Should he say sorry? Maybe he shouldn’t say anything and pretend it didn’t happen. He could see a vague shape through the darkness of the other man in his bed. Wash opened his mouth to ramble out some apology but before he could he was cut off. Maine’s distinctive rumbling voice filled the silence. It was quiet, and the words hard to distinguish, but the intent was unmistakable. Maine was singing. Maine was singing to him, for him. 

Wash’s stomach was in knots. It hadn’t been hard for him to realize that Maine was self conscious over whatever speech impediment he seemed to have that turned the man monosyllabic, if that. Yet here he was, not only openly speaking to Wash but singing to him. Wash settled back into the bed turning on his side to watch the Maine’s outline. He closed his eyes with a smile listening the quite off key rumble. Wash fell asleep to the thought that maybe Maine liking him isn’t such a bad thing.


End file.
